


Bracelets

by Alternative_approachtochronology



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Stolen Century Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 15:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternative_approachtochronology/pseuds/Alternative_approachtochronology
Summary: The one constant in Merle's life are the seven bracelets around his wristEdited: 12/6/18 to touch up some formatting





	Bracelets

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for my best friend! You can find me at alternative-approachtochronology on Tumblr

When Merle washed up on the beach he didn’t have much to his name. He had a hand axe, some clothes, his XTreme Teen Bible, and a pack of random assorted crap strapped to his back. He didn’t have a lot of memories, but he didn’t think too much about that. If his hangover and split lip from the bar he found the night before were any indication, the kind of life he led was prone to a lot of hazy memories. He remembered his childhood and stuff and that’s what matters, right? He was on the beach now, a town he didn’t really know the name of, but it was full of nice folk, and they were in need of a new cleric and weren’t terribly picky about their hiring process so before sunset Merle had a set of keys to a church and a loft to add to his small collection of things.

Merle threw his stuff down on the floor of his new loft, not much more than a stove and a bed, and plopped down on the bed, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out a plan for his new life. He brought his hand to his forehead to massage it, trying to persuade his hangover to go away. As he opened his eyes his sight blearily shifts into focus to see six bands of braided string around his wrist. Squinting he pulled his hand back, reaching his other hand to thumb through the bracelets. Each one was a different pattern, each with a small wooden bead with a letter on it.

“L” the braid closest to his palm, a striking blue string intertwined with gold and silver, the letter carved into the flat, circular bead worn, presumably from rubbing over it. “D” the next braid orange brown and silver, the strings worn, and as Merle tucked a finger underneath it he absentmindedly began to spin it around his wrist and he felt a familiar sense of comfort as the strings pull against the skin of his wrist. “M” Merle furrows his brow at this one, surprised to find his initial among the other random letters. This braid is a rich red, a bronze, and a silver, the bead was carved differently than the others, more carefully, Merle flipped the bead over to find a small duck inscribed on the other side and a smile is brought to his face. “T” a teal and purple intertwined with silver followed by an “L” orange and teal with silver braided through. As merle tried to separate the two he discovered they were intertwined with themselves, his absent minded separation led him to also discover that “L” was intertwined with the last one, “B” a simple deep red with a light blue and silver braid. As he ran his thumb up and down the series of strings he felt a sense of calm and slowly drifted off to sleep, vaguely optimistic about the future.

Merle is standing under an arbor, his suit itchy and unfamiliar, much different than his soft cleric robes or his worn and comfortable leather armor. He’s happy though, smiling, his beard in a neat braid and his hair tied back. Mavis walks down the aisle, sprinkling flower petals to the sides, smiling and happy. She sits in her seat then almost instantaneously turns around to kneel in her seat, the toddler beaming as she watches her mother walk down the aisle. Merle looks along with Mavis to see his wife to be coming down the aisle. He would be lying if he said he was one hundred percent certain about this. He hasn’t known her very long, not entirely sure if he is ready to be a father. But the wedding was arranged, her family needing her to have a secure future, and Merle’s been a fixture in the town now for three years, his strange type of ministry popular with the younger crowd. As she completes her journey down the aisle Merle meets her eyes and takes a deep breath. Uncertainty floods his system as the deacon begins to speak. Merle takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders. His sleeves raise and he catches a glimpse of his bracelets. He stares at them a moment, one more deep breath, he can do this. 

He couldn’t do it. It’s two years later and Merle is packing a bag as he hears his wife yell from the kitchen. She’s a good woman, and he likes to believe he’s a good man. Together though, they’re poison. They can’t agree on anything anymore, and now it’s more than just Mavis getting caught up in this, he takes a second to look down at Mookie asleep in his crib. Only eighteen months old and he’s already too accustomed to the shouting that he can nap right through it. He knows that if he leaves they’ll be happier, be better. He packs his bag, gives Mookie a quick kiss to his forehead, making sure the stuffed duck is within his reach. He walks into the living room, tells her he’s going out for a bit, gives Mavis a hug, and walks out the door. Half an hour down the road he starts to doubt himself, looking back at the lights in the town, the waves on the beach, and yearns to return to the stability of the past four years. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, rubs a thumb on the bracelets on his arm, slowly counting the beads between his fingers. He turns back towards the road, he can do this.

He just burned down a village. Well not directly, but he feels like he’s partially responsible, maybe like ten percent? There were a lot of people here too and that definitely had something to do with it. He looks over to his new companions, Magnus and Taako? A weird name for sure but Merle is sure he’s heard weirder (he named his kid Mookie for Pan’s sake). Magnus has a battleaxe in his hand and a forlorn look on his face, the shield on his off hand dripping to the ground, the bronze inlay glinting in the light of the fire of the burning town. Taako is just aghast, confused and just looks lost? They walk into the destroyed town, retrieve the gauntlet, and watch as Killian summons a pod from the sky to take them off to somewhere? There was a lot of static involved. Merle looks over to his equally confused companions, looks down to his wrist, and takes a deep breath. He takes a step into the pod, he can do this.

Getting into the Bureau and meeting Lucretia is a wild ride. So much information and not enough time. One thing Merle can’t quite shake off is the braid of strings around her wrist, he can’t make out all the colors but he sees a deep green. Her bracelet has a wooden bead as well but if it says anything on it, Merle can’t tell. A moment later he can’t quite remember what he was curious about. They are brought to their new dormitory, cramped quarters that makes Merle miss his Cleric loft above the temple. They pick their bunks and Merle tries to process everything, picking at his bracelet, spacing out as their roommate babbles on about Pringles.

Merle and his partners, now his friends he thinks, bring back the occulus the high and relief of retrieving their first relic on purpose palpable in the air. Taako is bouncing on his toes, but in a subtle way to not disrupt his “cool” aura. Magnus is bursting at the seams, fights always brings him to a higher level of energy. As they hand over the relic Merle notices something on the wrist of Davenport’s outstretched arm holding the tray, a bracelet, nearly matching the one on Lucretia’s. It was visible only for a moment and Merle shrugs it off, lots of people have bracelets right? Merle forgets about the bracelet by the time he gets back to his new swagged out dorm room.

Merle is in Lucas’ lab, working on reclaiming the fourth artifact with men he is getting closer to considering his brothers. A voice in his head, Pan’s voice in his head, tells him to grab the crystal out of the air to save his friends and he does, almost unthinkingly. Later, after he’s regained consciousness and been fitted with his new soulwood arm he is relieved that he made the decision to grab the crystal with the hand that doesn’t have his bracelets on it, he doesn’t know what he would do without them. Merle realizes that they are the longest constant in his life. Magnus is retrieving the robot arms he pulled out to offer to Merle and pushing them back into his bag. As he maneuvers the bag to better accommodate the arms Merle spots six strands of colored braids tied to a ring on the inside of the bag. He smiles warmly, an unknown comfort filling his chest, forgotten almost immediately as the time limitation of the situation comes crashing back down around them.

They’re in Fantasy Costco, picking out new outfits for their adventure in the Woven Gulch and Merle is sitting outside the changing rooms, waiting for Garfield to return with his special order pants. He looks over to see Taako’s robe, hastily discarded at the prospect of trying on new skirts. The inside chest pocket has some strings spilling out, Merle thinks he sees six distinct braids in the jumble. He furrows his brow as his fingers run over his own series of braids. The moment is forgotten when Taako bursts out of his changing room in a knee length purple skirt, striking a pose and teasing Magnus for his poor fashion sense and his decision to get what Merle considers practical camo cargo pants.

Merle saves the world. Well not on his own, but he’s a big part of it. He figures probably about fifty percent, but if you ask the others they might disagree. He also remembers everything he remembers his family, not Mavis and Mookie, he loves them and he’s trying but his Family. The Starblaster, the planes, the fights, the conversations with John, the deaths, the dying he remembers it all. The hopelessness, the quiet, scared nights spent in the Starblaster thinking that if it went south, if they failed the end of all worlds would be on them. But they won, and everyone knows and remembers and he is floored with the support and love that has been outpouring from strangers. What he’s focusing on now, sitting in a bar, they’re celebrating, but he’s tapped out, tucked into a booth and just thinking, trying to reconcile everything that’s happened in the past twelve hours, the past year, the past century. He runs his fingers, no longer absentmindedly but reverently along the bracelets on his wrist. Remembering the bad, there was so much bad, but also the good. The quiet year on the beach that he spent sick but everyone else spent relaxing. The quiet conversations at night when they had a beat on the light and didn’t need to stress. Sitting on the floor of the Starblaster and spinning yarns, both vocally and literally, telling stories from their childhoods and braiding silky strands of colored string together for each other, to keep them together even if they died early on in the year. Also a way to keep the mind occupied through the sad stories that composed most of their childhoods. Even Lucretia, putting down her journals in a rare time, not being focused on recording but instead sharing, telling her own stories, hands twisting the strings as she spoke, as her voice shook, either because of the things that had happened, or the realization that she may never see her family again. The twins, in the obnoxious way they had, insisting on entwining their bracelets together everytime, making sure that no matter what, they were inseparable. As a result they both had seven strings, so obstinate on entwining their strings that they did it with their own as well. After the conservatory, Barry was added to the entwining, resulting in a joking gag from Taako almost every time. After finishing a braid they would thread it through a braid and give them to each other to keep.

Lucretia settles in next to Merle in the booth, shaking him out of his recollections. “I couldn’t take them away,” she gestures to Merle’s hand focused on the bracelets, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to remember why they were there but, it was too much. Heck,” she smiles, “I couldn’t even take mine off.” She lifts the sleeve of her silken blue robes to reveal the bracelets, all six in pristine condition. Merle squints a bit and sees that Lucretia had cast a preservation charm on them. “I know I messed up, a lot. I have a lot to answer for, but you six are my family and I really hope that we can work together through this.”

“Well,” Merle pauses, concentrates on his response, “I can’t speak for all of us. But I know for me, what you did was wrong Lucretia, fucked up.” Lucretia hangs her head but Merle continues, “You took us from our family, from each other Lucretia. You even did that to yourself. You didn’t have anyone around you for ten years to talk to about this, to help you think more about the decision. I mean you had Davenport, but as much as I love the man, he maybe lost the most.” He takes a deep breath and looks at the bracelets on his wrist, then over to the almost matching set on Lucretia’s, “Pan is about balance and nature, and lady Istus is about the way things are supposed to be and Lucretia,” He looks up, making eye contact with Lucretia, “I can’t believe that after all this we’re not supposed to, all of us, be together. It sounds unnatural.” He smiles, “I’m with you, and I think the others are too, some of them might need some time to work it out.”

Lucretia smiles, takes a deep breath, and puts a hand on her bracelets, she can do this.


End file.
